Someone I Used to Know

by Blakney Francis

  I’d made a promise that no one would ever kiss me there again. That spot belonged to another. It was owned by someone who’d never kiss me again, and yet, I couldn’t bring myself to consider it my own. It was Declan’s, and I feared it always would be.

  Graham wasn’t the only one who took note of the unconscious gesture. I caught myself doing it all the time. Even my roommate, Hannah, had mentioned it, and she was the most unobservant person I’d ever known. She didn’t see or care about anything that wasn’t about her.

  I’d never faulted her for her natural preoccupation, and considering the unstable climate of my return to UNC, I wasn’t about to complain that the last person on campus unaware of my tie to Declan Davies or The Girl in the Yellow Dress was my roommate. It was nice to have an escape from the stares, giggling, and hushed comments that followed me more frequently than my own shadow. For the most part, people kept their distance. North Carolina wasn’t Los Angeles, where mauling people in public was acceptable, as long as their star-power justified it.

  “Why don’t you man the desk for a while? I’ll restock the shelves.” I veered the subject in a new direction again, conscious of the two freshmen girls getting ready to check-out. They’d been here twice a week since September, and each time they brought a new attempt to befriend me or glean information about my brief stint in Hollywood.

  Graham caught the direction of my stare and chuckled. “Scared they’ll try and coerce you into giving them your boyfriend’s phone number?”

  “He’s not my boyfriend.” I stepped around him, grabbing the book cart before pushing it towards the closest cluster of shelves.

  The irony that I’d spent so much time running from a book only to become employed in a library wasn’t lost on me. Encased by the tall rows, there was no anxiety over my surroundings. The books sheltered me, always quick to offer a new hiding place, muffled from the real world.

  My life in North Carolina was so much the same and so different at the same time. The news of my identity had spread, but instead of outright acknowledgment, I had been met with covert interest. Fascination lingered around me like a persistent cloud. Where California had tried to suffocate me with attention, at UNC, it almost acted as a buffer. People wanted to look, but not touch.

  I went about my normal life undaunted. It almost reminded me of someone whose bad reputation had followed them from high school. Only instead of a sex tape or cameo on a Girls Gone Wild episode, I had two famous ex-boyfriends. My peers gave me a wide birth, and if I could ever get used to the stares, I was sure I could just pretend like nothing was abnormal at all.

  ***

  At the end of my shift, I hurried down the steps outside, pulling my coat tighter around me to battle the dipping temperature. My dorm was only a five minute walk, but it was dark and I didn’t linger. I was in such a rush I almost didn’t notice the gigantic man leaning against a sleek town car in the loading zone in front of the dorm.

  His intimidating bulk should have frightened me, but I’d only known one person to maintain such size and grace. I recognized him immediately.

  “Alfred? What are you doing here?”

  “Giving you a ride,” he replied gruffly.

  I was out of practice with his humorless mask, and for an instant, his grim delivery sent an unintended shiver of fear down my spine. Alfred would have made a great mobster. One look from him and I would’ve tied the cement block to my own leg.

  “I didn’t realize I was going anywhere.”

  “That’s why it’s called a surprise, ho’omakamaka,” he said, softening on the native word.

  It was the closest he’d ever come to making a joke around me, and that was almost enough to tempt me into the car with him. The straps of my bag dug into my skin, a not so subtle reminder of the literal weight on my shoulders. I had books to read and essays to bullshit. I didn’t have time for surprises.

  I was pulled to the car anyways, like some invisible magnet was drawing me forward.

  “I assume this surprise doesn’t involve you telling me where you’re giving me a ride to.”

  He had no reaction to my submission, like he’d never once doubted my willingness to jump into a car with him with no explanation. Was I really so predictable?

  The first fifteen minutes of our drive were spent in silence. I wasn’t the only predictable one. The day Alfred got chatty with me was the same day I agreed to star in my own reality show.

  The quiet didn’t bother me. I’d grown to appreciate Alfred’s temperament over the summer. Being around him was as close to meditating as I’d ever come. My curiosity was a whole other matter though. When thirty minutes passed and we showed no sign of turning off the interstate carrying us Northwest, I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “Madeline didn’t ask you to kidnap me and drive me all the way back to California, did she?”

  “Yes,” he said somberly before his eyes flickered with a diminutive hint of jest. “But that was months ago, and I told her the likelihood of us getting away with something on that scale was slim.”

  “You’re a real comedian, Al. Is that your side job when Madeline lets you off your leash?” I said dryly, though I kind of enjoyed his attempted sarcasm.

  “We were in Charlotte on the press tour –.”

  “Charlotte! That’s more than two hours away!” I was outraged. I didn’t have four entire hours to waste. Especially not when I had no idea what Madeline wanted to do with me once I arrived.

  His foot didn’t even pretend to let off the gas pedal. “We’re going to Greensboro, and we’re already halfway there.”

  He didn’t offer any more information, and I wasn’t stupid enough to think I could persuade him into sharing. True to his assertion, we arrived in Greensboro in less than half an hour. I took a second to take in our destination.

  The hotel was beautiful, a square building with huge symmetrical windows adorning almost every inch of the exterior. It was, without a doubt, the finest the city had to offer.

  I followed Alfred as we left the car to the valet and headed inside. Bypassing the elevators in the lobby, we entered a dimly lit restaurant. He dismissed the hostess, telling her we’d find a seat at the bar.

  “What are we doing here?” I lowered my voice to match the relaxed mood. The dinner rush had passed, leaving the florid dining room sparse of patrons. “Where are the others?”

  He ordered two waters, gesturing for me to take the tall bar seat next to him. He showed no burning need to answer my questions, and I was just starting to really regret any decision that had led me back into the presence of these people and their highhanded ways, when voices from a discreet table behind us caught my attention.

  “What advice has he given you to prepare for your move Down Under?” a strong female voice asked. Her tone and volume didn’t fit in as typical in North Carolina.

  “Declan’s been on a mission to help me learn all their slang since we started The Girl in the Yellow Dress, but now that I’m actually moving to Australia, I’ve taken my research to whole new levels.” I recognized Madeline’s voice instantly. It was hard to forget something that periodically haunted my nightmares. “I’m not putting too much stock in any of his advice. He likes to play pranks, and knowing him, he’ll have me showing up on set the first day in some ridiculous get-up.”

  Alfred leaned in close to me, careful not to draw attention to us, and said, “Her interview is running late, but she’ll wrap it up soon.”

  I nodded, missing the reply that went along with the reporters twinkling laugh. I easily latched back onto their conversation.

  “The Girl in the Yellow Dress is becoming one of the most buzzed about movies of the year. In particular, the chemistry between you and your costar has been highly speculated over. Is there any truth to the rumor that Declan threatened to turn down Gone with the Wind if you weren’t cast as Scarlet?”

  Only someone who knew Madeline would be able to note the strain in her chuckle. “As romantic as that sounds, I’m
afraid I had to get the job the old fashioned way…by auditioning. Mr. Hoffman did site my close friendship with Declan, and the pleasing results of our previous work, as a factor for letting me read for the part. After that though, it was all on me. I had to prove to him that I could truly embody Scarlet and her plight.”

  There was a pause, allowing a few noisy scratches in a notepad. “While filming The Girl in the Yellow Dress, it was widely publicized that you were working with the real person who inspired your character. Adley Adair has disappeared since the story’s leak, but her brief stint in the spotlight has piqued the public’s interest. What were your impressions of the mysterious Ms. Adair?”

  “I’m not at liberty to discuss anything that may or may not have happened on the sets of any of my projects,” she deflected like a professional, and I let out a huge sigh of relief. “…But I will say that it was truly an honor to work with everyone associated with The Girl in the Yellow Dress. Playing that character has been the most difficult and enlightening experience of my career. You always hear veteran actors talking about how the characters they’ve played stick with them, becoming a part of them, but I’d never felt that until this film.”

  The interview wrapped up after that, and Alfred discreetly told me to wait five minutes before following them up to the room. He looked a little apologetic as he gave me the room number and quickly followed Madeline out. I understood the purpose though. Cameras were everywhere, and I had no desire to have my face on anymore magazine covers. The quicker I was forgotten by the media, the better it was for everyone.

  Standing in front of the room I’d been instructed to go to, I paused, surprised by the emotions pounding in my chest. The curiosity and nervousness I would have expected, but the surge of happiness I felt at the thought of reuniting with Madeline, Alfred, and Fran, I couldn’t have predicted. I’d been so desperate to get away, it had never occurred to me to miss them.

  I took a deep breath and reached out to knock. The door was ripped open before I ever made contact.

  “Could you have taken any longer? I was about to send Fran to fetch you…Well, come in already! I’ve got a flight in less than six hours, you know. It’d be nice to at least get a little sleep at some point if you’re done meandering in the hallway,” Madeline greeted. With her arms crossed and head tilted to the side, all traces of my mannerisms that she’d picked up over the summer were wiped clean. She was one hundred percent Madeline.

  It had been impossible to miss the young starlet in the media the last couple of months. She was everywhere, her celebrity exploding at the simultaneous release of The Girl in the Yellow Dress and her casting in the biggest remake of the century. But seeing her on TV and in ink, didn’t prepare me to be back with her larger-than-life persona.

  “It’s good to see you too, Madeline.” I laughed in spite of her brute nature…or maybe it was because of it. Either way, I found myself truly meaning the words.

  Her flame-colored hair, which had always seemed to me to be an extension of her personality, had been dyed a stark raven hue. On anyone else it would’ve looked ridiculous, but as I stared at Madeline, I found myself forgetting it had ever been another color. She was as exaggeratedly beautiful as ever, her cat-green eyes peering at me with well-honed contempt.

  I couldn’t even pretend to be offended by her anymore, and I felt nothing but oddly twisted affection as I entered the suite.

  Fran was next to greet me, slamming into me like a linebacker, but her tackle came in the form of a tight hug. I chuckled at her enthusiasm, fighting off my natural instinct to be uncomfortable at the invasion of personal space.

  Madeline scoffed and stepped around us. Walking into the quaint sitting area, she flopped gracefully onto the spacious cream colored couch, somehow contorting her tiny body to take up the whole thing. Alfred loomed silently by the window, alternating between scoping out the street floors below and assessing the room with careful sweeps of his liquid-brown eyes.

  “Our Madeline is having a much easier time identifying with her new character, if you can’t tell,” Fran told me, noticing my gaze on Madeline’s lounging form.

  Yeah, I had no problem believing Madeline would have all the empathy in the world for self-serving and ambitious Scarlet O’Hara. Fran kept her arm around me, leading us to the loveseat opposite the couch. Even though she was only a few years older than me, there was something motherly about her touch.

  “Congratulations on Gone with the Wind,” I said. My heart sped up, and I cursed the reaction. Would there ever come a day that the slightest mention of anything Declan-related didn’t affect me? My brain had made my choice. Why couldn’t my heart respect it? “You deserve it, and I can’t imagine a better Scarlet.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re in the minority,” she said sourly. “Everyone else things that the only thing I earned was my right into Declan Davies’ bed… And the sad thing is, they’re kind of right.”

  I sucked in a harsh breath. It was like she’d bitch-slapped me before plunging an ice sickle into my heart. My senses shut down, overloaded with the abundance of him.

  “Madeline!” Fran barked before casting me a worried look. She squeezed me closer to her side.

  “Oh please!” she dismissed, rolling her eyes unconcerned. “Adley knows I’d sooner romance a kangaroo than Davies…I might not have fucked my way to corsets and pantaloons like everyone assumes, but I can’t escape the fact that I never would’ve gotten the part without Declan. Joseph made it clear that I was no Scarlet without his choice as Rhett.”

  “How is he?” The words erupted from me like an unexpected sneeze I could do nothing to stop. I didn’t know where it had come from, and deep regret flooded me, realizing there was nothing I could do to suck them back in.

  I couldn’t look at them. My focus drifted to the bulky coffee table in the awkward silence that lingered.

  Fran shifted uncomfortably beside me. “I think he likes being home. He’s been giving the southern dialect coach trouble because his natural accent has become so distinct…I think he’s doing it on purpose to mess with her.”

  Madeline puffed her cheeks with an annoyed expression. “He’s doing it because he’s been an insufferable bastard lately.”

  “They’re not taking well to being roommates,” Fran said, ignoring her younger boss and speaking directly to me. There was something strained and unconvincing to me about her cheerful explanation. “We all thought it was a great idea when he asked us to stay with him for the duration of production. I mean, his house is large enough to accommodate a soccer team and their families comfortably…I’m starting to think it isn’t going to work out though.”

  “Because he’s a prick,” Madeline grumbled, unapologetic to Fran’s condemning gaze.

  Again she was ignored. Fran changed the subject with an excited clap, and her happiness became far more believable.

  “We got you something!”

  “What? Why?”

  No one answered me. Instead, a small wrapped box was placed in front of me. I eyed the seemingly innocent square uncertainly, but Fran nudged my shoulder encouragingly, and she looked far too eager for me to decline in good conscience.

  My hands shook, nervous under their concentrated gazes. I hated opening gifts in front of people. There was so much pressure. What if I reacted in the wrong way? Finished stripping away the soft pink wrapping paper, I slowly pulled the cover off the small box.

  “It’s a charm bracelet,” Madeline declared before my eyes could even appraise the dainty silver chain. “We’d only planned on adding one charm, but we all had a different idea of what it should be…so we ended up getting all three, one from each of us.”

  Dangling from the delicate bracelet, three very different items all gleamed in expensive silver. I smoothed my fingers along each one.

  “I picked the film reel in case you ever try and forget about us,” Fran said with a wink. “And Madeline wanted you to have the pointe shoes.”

  I nodded. Emotions formed
a bubble in my throat, blocking my ability to speak.

  “I tried to make Alfred take his charm off,” Madeline said tartly.

  My eyes carved over the last tiny replica. It looked like some version of a fancy fishing hook with faint markings and sharp edges opposite to where it curved.

  I dragged my inspection away from the beautiful charm to where Alfred had been standing, needing to find some explanation for his choice. He was gone. I hadn’t noticed him slip free of the room, but it wasn’t hard to imagine why. As uncomfortable as I was at accepting their kind gesture, the stern giant would have been even more so accepting my gratitude.

  She read my confusion, and continued, “He called it a Bone Fish Hook. Apparently, it’s some sort of Hawaiian symbol for strength…I didn’t think you deserved it after the way you split town, too cowardly to even say goodbye. He wouldn’t let me take it off though.”

  “Why?” I found my voice, or at least a scratchy version of it. I felt a deep need to know his answer as well. How could I – the girl who could only do the right thing by running away from it – deserve anything honoring strength?

  “He said it wasn’t a reward for the decisions you’d made in the past…It’s a reminder that you have the strength to make a different choice next time.”

  With a stubborn effort, I fought down the swelling balloon of my emotions, unable to squelch them, only managing to swallow my grateful tears for the sake of my pride. I thought I had control. I opened my mouth to thank them, only to have fizz rapidly fill up my throat, like Champagne finally uncorked from its stagnant state. I coughed, nearly choking under the force it cost me. I could only hope my watery gaze conveyed what I could not.

  “Not that I’m not thrilled to see you guys,” I said, swimming towards shallower waters, “But what brings you from Charlotte to Greensboro?”

  “Someone had to bring you your present. You ditched us before we had a chance this summer, and not everyone is rude enough to let commitments go unfulfilled,” Madeline brushed me off, not missing a chance to get a dig in.

  I smiled indulgently at her passé attitude, but it didn’t fool me for a second. She’d gone out of her way to visit me. It was a genuine insinuation of friendship. It was as good a sign of true human emotion as I’d ever get from her.